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<title>So let’s runaway, darling, to a place far far away where no one can find us and we’ll dance away our problems under the golden sky by orphan_account</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23560357">So let’s runaway, darling, to a place far far away where no one can find us and we’ll dance away our problems under the golden sky</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hermitcraft</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>:(, Angst, Babies, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda, Little Dialogue, M/M, NPG has literally no lines in the first half, i love them, i’ll explain why later shush, lots of character building, the dialogue in this suffered</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 18:28:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,515</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23560357</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s like the aftermath of rain, when everything’s calmed down and ok. When the storm’s over, when there’s nothing but the cold air lingers around until the sun comes out again. </p><p>A sort of ethereal feeling. When it’s peaceful.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>NPG | NPC Grian/EX | Evil Xisuma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>So let’s runaway, darling, to a place far far away where no one can find us and we’ll dance away our problems under the golden sky</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So this is a follow up to the last story in this series and it’s probably gonna be a multichapter but like. </p><p>None of it’s gonna be consistent because this isn’t really a project I’m serious about but I wanna write it like?? Fuck?? They’re so cute I can’t help it</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Xizara’s hands shake as he’s pushed forwards, breath caught in his throat. All of a sudden he couldn’t breathe, all of a sudden the only thing he could see were them and his brother. All of a sudden he was plummeting into the void with a throat wrenching scream that echoed and echoed and echoed until his throat hurt and he couldn’t scream anymore. He could feel the trembling hands of lost souls grab onto him, whisper in his ear and pull him down further, further, further, further. He couldn’t see. It was too dark. Fuck. He couldn’t breathe either, the air too dense. That’s not right, there was no air to begin with. </p><p>The only thing on his mind was his brother’s stupid, cold face and those disgusting emerald eyes that watched- just watched. The sound of cries and screeches faded out into his mind but he could still hear them, from far far away. It hurt. </p><p> </p><p>Xizara’s eyes snap open, the only sound he could hear now was his own breathing and the breeze flowing through his hair. He presses his hand against the grass, giving it a tight squeeze as if that’s going to ground him to reality. He looks to his left where he sees a familiar thoughtful face and a mop of disheveled blond hair. And that damn cloak. It’s big, dirty and it covers up NPG like a blanket and Xizara wonders what’s underneath that cloak. What’s underneath that smile he always puts on. He’s seen him on this cliff enough times to know there’s definitely something going on in that mind of his, he just doesn’t know what. Maybe he’s just overthinking. But why would he overthink? He has no reason to- he doesn’t care about NPG and as far as he knows they’re just two dudes on a cliff contemplating life. Nothing more, probably. </p><p>God, what’s he doing? Staring at some guy who he doesn’t even know that well. Thinking he knows what he’s feeling. Come to think of it, Xizara’s talked to every single one of the ‘hermits’ except NPG and, yet, NPG is the one he spends the most time with. Sure, it’s in silence but the silence is nice, comforting almost. Sometimes they would sit there for hours on end, until the sun sets and one of them gets too tired to continue staring out into nothing. Other times, Xizara would catch NPG at ass o’ clock in the morning just sitting and looking out into the distant sky. Those are the times where Xizara leaves NPG alone to think. </p><p>Still, he can’t help but be curious. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>When Xizara arrives at the clifftop, NPG is nowhere to be seen. At first, it’s unnerving because NPG is always there when Xizara’s there. He’s never seen NPG anywhere other than the cliff, and he doesn’t know if the guy even has a house in the village because, well, it’s a relatively small village. Lots of people; Small village. Despite the blond’s strange disappearance, Xizara sits down either way and hopes to god he won’t think about NPG. What else can he think of? </p><p>His hands grab at the grass again. It’s moist when he clutches too hard but he doesn’t let go, like it’s some sort of anchor securing him down. If he lets go, he’ll fall again- fall into the void and  he won’t be able to crawl out this time. He lets go, clutches again, let’s go, clutches again, repeat, repeat, and repeat. Until he’s practically ripped the grass out of the ground and there’s a vivid green tint on his palm that’s oddly reminiscent of Xisuma’s eyes. Green, bright, soft, kind spirited and watching. Xizara lets out an airy chuckle, god, Xisuma’s always been better than him. He was a good one, the golden child, the good brother. And Xizara… wasn’t. </p><p>He doesn’t mind not being the perfect brother, the brother son- the perfect heir. It’s not like there’s anything he can do about it now, or ever. All he wanted to do was… </p><p>A tear runs down his cheek and he resists the urge to rub it off. He’s cried a lot since Xisuma got him out of his misery. He saw how much his brother had grown, the scars he adorned and the warm gaze in his eyes when he told Xizara I forgive you. Xisuma grew and became a better person, a better man and Xizara didn’t. He let himself get swallowed by his own hatred and anger, letting it consume him without even trying to fight against it to see the light. How pathetic.. </p><p>Xizara brings his knees to his chest, clinging to the fabric of his pants as he cries. Why was he crying now? Why not all the other times he thought about how much better Xisuma was? Maybe it’s because he’s alone, no one’s here to judge him about how weak he is and mock him. Not even NPG, even though he probably wouldn’t even notice Xizara sobbing uncontrollably.</p><p>Then there’s a tap on his shoulder. And a tug on his shirt collar that has him falling onto his back, grunting. His eyes are still glossy and tear filled and bloodshot, but when he looks up he meets equally glossy red eyes that stare down at him with.. concern? Jesus, he can’t tell anymore, everything’s a blur. Xizara flips himself onto his knees, standing up and practically towering over NPG like a skyscraper. Sure, he’s tall but he’s not that tall. NPG’s just. Short. The blond takes a step back at the sudden intrusion of his space. </p><p>It’s kind of… cute. NPG stares at him for a bit. His eyes, his hair, his scars, his helmet, everything. He tugs on Xizara’s wrists and starts to drag him off to somewhere. From the blowing wind, Xizara can feel nothing but the heat radiating from the blond’s hand and he can see nothing but the back of his head and he’s led deep into the forest that trails off from the road leading down back to the village. Where’s this guy taking him? </p><p>Sunlight shines in through the treetops and makes spotty patterns on the grass below him, on him and around him. There’s this nostalgic feeling he gets as he’s led to a clearing and there’s a pretty little rustic looking house. His breath gets caught in his throat. </p><p>“Did you.. did you build this all by yourself?” </p><p>There’s little details in the house, like the scrape in the wood or the different shades that bring it out. Or the overgrown leaves and moss crawling up the sides and the daisies planted along the edges that give it that bit of colour. It looks so pretty, so cozy and something straight out of a fairytale. NPG nods curtly, bouncing over to the entrance and gesturing Xizara to come on in. Xizara has to bend to get under the doorway but once he’s in he’s even more flabbergasted. The inside- he can’t find any other words to describe it as warm. It gives him this nostalgic feeling, like a memory he’s never had or a life he’s never lived. </p><p>He swore there was a word for it.. he just can’t remember. </p><p>There’s a soft yellow glow shining in from the window that’s lined with overgrown plants of all varieties. It smells like fresh tea and the aftermath of rain when everything’s settled down. The floor is a dark wood he can’t name and there’s even detail there. From small carvings to broken bits here and there that are filled in with moss. He looked at all the plants hanging from the ceiling and just rested on tables and counters and ledges. It’s so… homely. Xizara feels warm. </p><p>Npg pushes a cup of tea at his chest and some of the liquid spills out onto his armour. Xizara takes the cup and sits down on a couch by the window, looking out to the rows and rows and rows of trees outside. They must be really deep in the forest. He pays attention to NPG, turning his head quickly. He's also staring out the window in silence. Xizara takes this quick moment to look over the blond- how gentle his face looks, how pink his lips are, how pale he is and how soft his hands look around his steamy of tea. This is, oddly enough, a lot more peaceful than it is out on the cliff. It’s calm and warm, nostalgic and peaceful and it’s just… nice. Yeah, nice is the word. Xizara enjoys this, enjoys the quietness and his ability to think about anything and everything other than his brother and his own wrongdoings. </p><p>For just a moment, he can ignore the blood on his hands. For now, they’re just red stains he’ll never be able to wash away. </p><p>And that’s… ok. </p><p>NPG looks back at him, a small smile forming on his small, pink lips. It’s almost as if he feels it too, this sense of peace and tranquillity. </p><p>Yeah, he could get used to this.</p>
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